


Everybody is Kung Flu fighting

by HashiHimee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Sickfic, They love each other, hashirama is sick, madara being a closeted softie, madara nurses him back to health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashiHimee/pseuds/HashiHimee
Summary: Hashirama is sick and tries to take care of himself alone; luckily, Madara is there to nurse him back to health.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	Everybody is Kung Flu fighting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the lovely Avocado-kun.  
> I really really really hope you’ll like this fic, dear!
> 
> Everybody else, please enjoy!
> 
> Let me know what you think leaving a comment below and don’t forget to show dear Avo-kun the love and appreciation that pure soul deserves!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> -Hh

When the kid sneezed right in his face, Hashirama knew he was going to be sick. He knew it with all the certainty of his whole being, with all the certainty of his medic brain, with all the certainty of the knowledge gained from years of working in the ER, like he knew the sky was blue and the water wet.

Hashirama grimaced, nodded to the kid's parents and sent the family off to be dismissed from the ER. He spent the rest of his shift trying to come up with a plan to face this cold alone since Madara was away for a week-long convention and wouldn't be back for at least other four days. Hashirama knew he had other 24 to 36 hours of freedom before collapsing under the weight of the plague the kid had passed on him. He just sighed.

-  
  
Hashirama trudged up the last flight of stair feeling the headache thrumming violently at the back of his head, cold and just wanting to collapse in the bed. He fumbled with the keys then sighed tiredly when his phone went off. Hashirama rested his forehead against the still closed front door and breathed deeply before fishing his phone out of the pocket of his jacket.

"Hello?" _Hey._ "Mads." _I'm bored to hell. And the food sucked. But they have ice-cream. Who had ice-cream in the middle of February?_ Hashirama nodded and cheered internally when he finally managed to unlock the front door before answering "Well, you're in Sand. It's always hot there of course they have ice-cream in the middle of February." Hashirama walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer and took out the frozen lasagna Madara had stocked away, put it in the microwave then collapsed on the stool watching the plate rotating. _You still there, idiot?_ Hashirama hummed and answered "Just got home. One hell of a shift. How was your day?" _Boring as hell. They should have sent someone else. Have you eaten?_ "I'm heating the lasagna your mom made us but I'm not really hungry." Madara hummed from the other end of the line and Hashirama closed his eyes for just a moment.

He snapped them back open when the microwave pinged and his dinner was ready. "Mads?" He asked groggily, phone still pressed against his ear. _Still here, idiot. Did you nap waiting for the food?_ "Yeah. Sorry." _I'll call you tomorrow I have to go to the last seminary._ "Ok. Love you." _Same._

The line went cold and Hashirama shoved two bites of lasagna in his mouth and put the plate in the fridge before trudging to the bathroom. He got ready for bed, swallowed two aspirins then collapsed on the bed face first, startling a very displeased Matatabi; he was asleep mere seconds later.  
  


-

  
Hashirama woke up wanting to die; he felt cold and hot, sweaty, his throat felt like sandpaper and his mouth tested even worse and all his bones ached. Hashirama whined pitifully to himself and got out of bed slowly; he grabbed one of Madara's sweatshirt before wobbling his way to the bathroom first and then to the kitchen. While he warmed up some milk and refilled Matatabi’s bowl he call the hospital to call in sick; with that settled, he scooped up a spoonful of honey to add to the milk before making his way to the couch and wrapping himself in a burrito of blankets. He sipped his milk slowly, still feeling like dying, but when Matatabi curled up by his side and started purring loudly he started to nod off.   
  


-

Hashirama woke up some time later feeling better and worse at the same time. Better because the headache at the back of his head, that had taken the form of a chibi Tobirama, had stopped thrumming but worse because the not-so-chibi Tobirama had somehow multiplied and moved to the side of his head and was now pounding angrily against his temples. Hashirama groaned softly and rolled down the sofa intent on walking into the kitchen to make some of Madara’s tea staying wrapped in his blankets-burrito.

With the warm cup cradled like the most prized possession to his chest, Hashirama shuffled back to the living room grabbing his phone on the way there.

There were four missed calls from Madara and a text. Madara hated texting. Hashirama didn’t even try to read the text because the not-so-chibi Tobiramas in his head were yelling loudly so he simply curled around the cup of tea and nodded off shortly after.

-

Hashirama woke up when Matatabi curled up on his chest preventing him to breathe properly; he shooed her off and started coughing. In the midst of his coughing fit he almost missed his phone going off. Hashirama reached for it and asked weakly “Hello?” _Oh, for fuck’s sake! Fucking finally! Where the hell have you been?!_ Hashirama sighed a small “Mads? What time is it?” _It’s well past time you answered! You..._ Hashirama started coughing again and completely missed the rest of Madara’s reply. He said instead “I don’t feel well, Mads. Sleep. Sorry.” Hashirama burrowed deeper in his blankets and his wet choughs dawned Madara’s statement of _I’m coming back home_.

*

Madara threw open the front door and stormed inside the apartment at 3:37 in the morning to be met with a pitiful sight: the cat was meowing angrily at her empty bowl and throwing a fit while the idiot was coughing in his sleep, shivering and sweating despite the mountain of blankets he was buried under on the sofa.

Madara kneeled beside him on the carpet and touched his forehead. Hashirama was burning. Madara got up, refilled the cat’s bowl while wetting a towel in the kitchen sink then went back in the living room shedding his scarf and coat along the way. He run the towel on Hashirama’s face before placing it on his forehead and tucking away some sweaty strands of hair. He shook his head and sighed softly “Idiot.” and Hashirama’s eyes fluttered open; he glanced up with glassy eyes and coughed a small “Mads?” “I’m here. C’mon. You need to go back to bed.” Hashirama took a long time to nod and Madara helped him on his feet. Hashirama swayed and Madara had to drag him in their bedroom holding most of his weight.

He settled Hashirama down and fetched a dry towel, a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before going back and coaxing him out of the sweat soaked clothes he was wearing. Madara gently run the towel on Hashirama’s body before helping him in the clean clothes and tucking him into the bed. The idiot was sleeping even before the process was complete.

Madara run a hand down his face and sighed before pattering back into the bathroom to grab another towel and change into some comfier clothes; he walked back into the bedroom, put the wet towel on Hashirama’s forehead and redid his hair bun before settling by his side to get some needed sleep.

-

Madara checked Hashirama’s temperature for the umteenth time before walking in the kitchen and stirring the soup he had made. It was a simple soup but Madara just knew the idiot had starved the previous days so that would do. Madara turned off the stove, poured the hot liquid in a bowl then went back in the bedroom holding the tray. He sat on the bed then proceeded to wait running his fingers through Hashirama’s hair and smoothing out the various knots.

Hashirama woke up slowly and Madara stopped his motions to stare at him. “Hey.” He whispered when the idiot just looked at him confused at still feverishly and Hashirama crocked out “Mads?” Madara shook his head replying “It’s me. How are you feeling?” Hashirama blinked before answering weakly “Bad.” Madara helped him sitting against the headboard then placed the now-tepid bowl of soup in his hands saying “Sip slowly.”

Hashirama did how he was told but halfway in he started to nod off again so Madara simply got him tucked under the covers once more before going back into the kitchen to eat himself. He then settled on his side of the bed and let Hashirama’s head rest on his thigh while he read the book abandoned on his nightstand table more than two weeks before.

-

Madara woke up when Hashirama groaned rolling on his back. He blinked sleepy and sighed when the idiot asked “Madara? What are you doing here?” “I came back since you were dying and hadn’t told me. How are you feeling?” They both sat a bit upright and Hashirama answered with a small cough “Better. But I wasn’t dying.” Madara rolled his eyes and checked his forehead replaying “Well, I had to call to hospital to know about you. So yes, you were dying. Ok, the fever broke. You up to a bath?” Hashirama shook his head saying “I’m hungry. What time is it?” Madara rolled out of bed and helped the idiot on his feet while answering “Around ten in the morning. It’s your third day of sick leave. You had me worried for a bit yesterday.”

Hashirama flopped down on the kitchen stool asking “Third day?” while Madara turned on the stove to warm up some milk humming. “You want some toasted bread? You need to eat something.” Hashirama nodded and Madara gave him a plate of buttered bread and a cup of milk with honey. They cuddled on the sofa when Hashirama finished his food, Hashirama snoring softly lying on Madara’s chest and Madara reading and running his fingers through his hair.

Madara kissed Hashirama’s temple and murmured “I’m glad you’re ok, Hashi. I love you.” his only response was a soft snore. Madara smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I’m my own beta so be kind and point out any mistake so I can correct every single one of it!  
> #NoBetaWeDieLikeShinobi
> 
> -Hh


End file.
